


Lips are Sealed

by The_Chronic_Cryptid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Not Beta Read, Redeemed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22903510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Chronic_Cryptid/pseuds/The_Chronic_Cryptid
Summary: With the war over and returning to Hogwarts for eighth-year, all Draco wants is a little peace and quiet. With Harry Potter around, he isn't likely to get it. He jokingly bets that Potter can't keep his mouth shut, never expecting him to take it on. But Harry does and agrees that until Draco asks him to speak, his lips are sealed.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 372





	Lips are Sealed

"Merlin Potter, do you ever stop talking? I bet you couldn't keep your mouth shut if you tried." Draco let his textbook slam shut. Unlike the Slytherin common room, the eighth-year dorms were always loud, and it seemed like Potter was always to blame for the noise. If it wasn't Potter then it was a member of his fan club, so he was equally responsible for that nonsense even if he wasn't directly involved in it, as far as Draco was concerned. How was he supposed to get any done?

Harry shrugged. He closed his mouth with a soft smirk. His green eyes flashed behind the lenses of his glasses. Snitching a scrap of parchment from Granger's notebook, Harry scribbled something on the paper before tossing it at Draco. The blond caught the paper between two fingers. A manicured eyebrow rose, but he unfolded the scrap and squinted to decipher Potter's horrible scrawl. 

_You're on, Malfoy_

Draco shook his head, letting the scrap of paper fall to one of the cluttered side tables, "Any terms to the bet, then?" He asked, half hoping that Potter would slip up and answer him out loud. It wasn't like he actually expected the Gryffindor to take him up on it. But his dark hair flopped over his face when he bent back over a new scrap of parchment. After a few scratched lines, the new parchment landed in Draco's waiting hands. 

_Until you ask for me to talk, my lips are sealed. Those are the terms._

Draco snorted, "And why in Merlin's name would I ever ask for that, Potter?" Harry shrugged, his green eyes dancing all the same. Nodding to Draco and the others, he strode out of the common room without a word. The blond pinched the bridge of his nose. Somehow without the war going on, Potter had become more disruptive and baffling. 

Everyone returned to their conversations, at what Draco noted to be a much more reasonable volume. Grinning, he dropped into his seat in the overstuffed armchair and pulled his textbook back onto his lap. He licked the pad of his thumb to pick between the pages until he found his place. The silence was only going to last for so long, Draco intended to enjoy every moment of it. 

* * *

Draco strode into the Great Hall, over to the sliver of a table that was set aside for the eighth-year students. He slid into a seat across from his new silent Gryffindor. Raising one of his manicured eyebrows with a silent question, the blond waited for a reply. Harry offered a brief wave to Draco before returning to his pumpkin juice, in response. Nodding, Draco grinned. The game was still on. Potter hadn’t given it up yet. As much as he enjoyed the silence, Draco couldn’t help himself but prod the other boy a little.

“Good morning,” He began, reaching for a slice of toast from the tray between them, “sleep well?” Harry took a long sip of his pumpkin juice. The cup clinked down on the tabletop. He shrugged in response to the question, snatching up a rasher of bacon and dropping it on his plate. Harry tapped the edge of the tray as if to offer it to Draco, but the Slytherin declined the bacon, “I slept wonderfully, in case you were wondering. The quiet is really doing wonders for me.” Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco in reply, “Shame this little game will all be over once we go to class, isn’t it?”

Harry’s head cocked to the side. He nibbled on the bacon while he waited for the Slytherin to elaborate, “Even the golden boy can’t go a whole class without needing to answer any questions or having to use magic.” Draco reminded him, “And it really is a shame because I almost enjoy your company when you’re like this.”

Harry gnawed on his bottom lip. He really hadn’t considered his classes. He hadn’t considered much of anything when he agreed to Malfoy’s bet. People never accused him of thinking before he rushed into anything. It wouldn’t be difficult to convince his professors that he had a sore throat for a day or two, but any longer than that and it would raise suspicions. If he made it that long to be an issue. Being quiet wasn’t as difficult as he thought, but Draco Malfoy’s banter made it hard to resist.

A soft flush crept into his cheeks at a thought that wheedled its way to the surface of his mind. Draco himself was hard enough to resist. Downing the rest of his juice and stuffing the last piece of bacon into his mouth, Harry nodded his pink cheeks at Draco and waved before racing out of the hall.

Draco’s gaze followed the shock of black hair as it bobbed and weaved between the other students, wondering what was going on in Potter’s scarred head. A gentle heat spread through the Slytherin’s face, was it a trick of his eye or had Potter been blushing? Whatever was going on in Potter’s head, Draco had no idea.

* * *

Draco wrapped the tie for his dressing gown tighter around his waist. He padded into the common room, stopping short at the sight of the fire crackling. Brushing the sleep out of his eyes, Draco peered around until his eyes settled on a shock of black hair poking out from the top of a squashy bean bag chair. The blond sighed, strode to his usual overstuffed armchair and sank into the cushion.

Harry jumped at the sudden intrusion. The Gryffindor’s usually unruly hair was wilder than normal from sleep, but Draco noted his eyes were glassy and red around the edges.

“It’s the middle of the night.” Draco said, keeping his tone hushed and neutral, “What are you doing out here?” Potter shrugged in reply. He shivered and leaned closer to the fire. Sighing, Draco summoned a blanket off one of the couches. It drifted through the air before flopping down on Harry’s lap. The Gryffindor mouthed a silent thanks. Winding the blanket around himself, he raised an eyebrow at Draco and stared at the clock on the wall to return the question, “I thought I heard a noise out here, so I came to check.”

It was the truth. Sleep hadn’t come easy to Draco after the war. Even with Voldemort gone, the Death Eaters dismantled, and being safe behind the wards of Hogwarts the Slytherin rarely felt safe. Random noises in the common room were far from helpful. Standing up, Draco padded over to one of the tables and extracted a loose piece of parchment out of a pile of someone’s abandoned homework. He snatched up a quill and inkpot, bringing the looted supplies back over to the Gryffindor, “Your turn.”

Harry sighed. He wrote a single line on the parchment.

_Do I have to?_

Draco peered at the messy writing in the low light of the fire, “Yes, you woke me up. So, I’m owed an explanation.” Nibbling on the edge of the quill, Harry put it back to the paper.

_I had a nightmare, couldn’t get back to sleep._

Nodding, Draco cast a spell at the fire to rekindle it before it could burn out, “Need to clear your mind?” He asked. Harry cocked his head to the side, eyes wary but a little less glassy than before, “Well, I’d offer to let you talk about it. But unless you’re giving up, that’s not going to happen.” Harry shook his head. He watched Draco summon a chessboard from the other side of the room. A soft smile curled on the Gryffindor’s lips. Harry sat up straighter on the bean bag. He snagged the chessboard out of the air before it could slam down and wake up half of the eighth-years.

Harry set the parchment aside. The two played one round, then another. Draco muttered the occasional comment now and then that made Harry have to stifle his laughs from making the others, and a spell to rekindle the fire. Harry stayed otherwise silent, but the Slytherin found himself in awe of how much the Gryffindor could say without words at all. In the lifting of an eyebrow, the cocking of his head, and the pursing of his lips. By the end of the third game, their eyelids were drooping and the two offered each other soft smiles before reluctantly returning to their respective beds.

* * *

“Mr. Potter, I understand your throat’s been bothering you, but it’s been a week. Surely it’s recovered by now.” McGonagall’s stern tones made Draco’s ears perk up. He watched the Gryffindor shrug, giving his throat an absent rub. How the faculty hadn’t caught onto the bet, Draco didn’t know. All he’d heard in the halls all week had been chatter about it, “If you’re sick enough not to speak then I insist you go see Madam Pomfrey.” Draco’s eyebrows rose. Was this finally going to put the bet to rest?

Not that he’d admit it to anyone, but he was beginning to miss the Gryffindor’s chatter. The two had played chess games almost every night that week, but he had a feeling it was no substitute for Harry’s conversations, “Mr. Malfoy, see Mr. Potter to the hospital wing.” The headmistress and transfigurations professor ordered.

Draco nodded. He slid his things into his bag and followed Potter out of the room.

“One diagnostic charm and the jig is up, Potter.” Draco reminded him, “It’s been a week. You’ve made your point and were as impressively stubborn as always. Talk if you want, I won’t hold it against you.”

Harry crossed his arms and shook his head. That wasn’t Malfoy asking for him to talk, just giving him permission. It wasn’t good enough. He used a wandless, wordless cast to summon parchment and a quill. Dropping to the stone floor, Harry wrote out a furious scribble before he shoved the page at Draco.

_Not till you ask_

Draco rolled his eyes, “Fine, you’ve made yourself clear. And what do you intend to do about Madam Pomfrey?” Harry snatched the parchment back.

_Not go_

He turned on his heel on the stone floor and walked away, leaving Draco to scramble after him.

* * *

“Did you really learn wandless, nonverbal casting just to win the bet?” Draco asked. He leaned against a mossy boulder with Potter beside him. Harry nodded. A grin stretched across his cheeks, “You’re something else, Potter.” The Gryffindor nodded again. Shivering without his jacket in the fading light, Harry nestled against Draco’s side. The blond rolled his eyes, but draped his arm around the Gryffindor, “For the record, I do not cuddle.”

Harry snorted. He pantomimed locking his mouth and tossing the key into the depths of the lake, “I know, I know, for now, your lips are sealed, but I’m talking about later when you finally give this up.” A gust of wind wafted between the rocks. Draco felt Harry shiver and wrapped his arm tighter around to keep him warm, “We should go inside.”

Harry frowned, giving a wistful look at the setting sun, “Fine. A few more minutes. But don’t blame me if you end up in the hospital wing.” He rubbed his hands over Harry’s at the sight of the Gryffindor’s red fingers, “What are we going to say to McGonagall?” The Gryffindor’s rosy cheeks paled a fraction. He gulped, his hand stroking his throat in an absent tic, “Relax, when have you actually ever gotten in trouble with McGonagall?” Draco offered.

The temperature dropped further until Harry couldn’t stay still anymore. He untangled himself from Draco’s arm and paced back and forth on the pebble beach. Shoving his hands under his armpits, he stared out at the sun as it began its slow slink down beyond the trees. Grinning, Harry scrambled up onto one of the boulders to get a better view, “Careful, you’ve got enough scars without falling and cracking your head open.”

Harry snorted. Leaning over the edge of the boulder, he offered his hand to Draco so the blond would join him. Before Draco could reach for the hand, Harry lost his footing on the slick moss. He gasped, falling back to the stone below and vanishing from Draco’s line of sight. Even with the moss, a sickening crack carried to Draco’s ears.

Gulping, Draco raced around the other side of the boulder to find Harry. The Gryffindor’s form was crumpled on the pebbles. Bile rising in his throat, Draco shook the other boy, “Potter, wake up,” He ordered, but the boy didn’t stir, “Come on Potter, open your eyes so I know you’re alright.” Still no response. The Gryffindor was still. Draco shook him harder, “Tell me you can hear me. Harry say something, anything please?” He pleaded.

Draco’s shaking fingers found Harry’s steady pulse at his neck, thrumming hard enough to set him more at ease. He’d be fine. Harry had come back from worse. A little fall like that was nothing, wasn’t it? Scrambling to his feet, Draco scooped up Harry into his arms and rushed back toward the castle to get help.

* * *

Harry stirred in his bed. His head pounded with the movement. Groaning, he opened his eyes as far as he dared. Gentle light streamed in through the hospital wing windows and enveloped the room in a soft glow. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light enough to notice Draco curled into a chair at his bedside.

The blond had fallen asleep in the chair, his slender limbs folded awkwardly around each other. His fingers sunk into the starchy sheets beneath him to push himself up in the bed. It made his head pound harder, but he leaned over far enough to card his hand through Draco’s hair. As gentle as he tried to be, the touch shocked the Slytherin out of his slumber. He snapped his head back but settled the second he came to his senses.

Draco threw his arms around Harry, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

“Merlin Potter, never scare me like that again.” Harry nodded, even when it made his head ring. He squeezed Draco back and shoved over to make space for him on the narrow hospital bed. The blond hesitated for a second before clambering onto the bedside him.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Harry whispered. His voice was hoarse from lack of use. Draco’s head snapped toward him. He covered his mouth, trying to smother the laugh building up from inside him.

“Really, Harry, now you speak?” Harry nodded, curling into Draco’s arm in the tight space of the bed.

“Of course,” He whispered, his wiry hair tickling Draco’s chin, “You asked me to. Practically begged. _Say something, anything_ if I remember it right.” He turned to meet Draco’s gaze, his lips turned up in a smug grin, “I won the bet.” Though it made his head pound, Harry laughed a throaty laugh that Draco was sure would be loud enough to summon Madam Pomfrey. Not wanting to be interrupted, he pressed his hand against Harry’s mouth.

“Shush, or she’ll make me leave.” The Gryffindor’s expression softened. He tugged Draco’s hand away from his mouth, back under control. Harry laid his pounding head down on the pillow beside Draco. A smile fixed on his lips. Rolling his eyes, Draco tucked his arm back around Harry, “I’m fairly certain that you cheated. I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if you did that on purpose.” Draco muttered.

Harry frowned. He shook his head hard enough to see stars. Draco frowned, prodding Harry back onto the pillow.

“I wouldn’t do something like that. I know everyone else isn’t convinced, but I don’t have a death wish.” He insisted.

“I’m teasing Potter. I’ve never been a good sport.” Draco offered, squeezing Harry’s shoulders. He settled the Gryffindor back to his side, so he’d lay back and rest. Harry hummed in agreement.

“Don’t worry, if anyone else asks, I’ll say you won.” He once again acted out locking his lips and throwing away the key. Draco rolled his eyes. He tucked the blankets around them and ran his fingers through Harry’s wild hair as gingerly as he could to avoid the fresh cuts. Before he could change his mind, he ducked forward and pressed a soft kiss on the Gryffindor. Harry flushed, his dark eyelashes fluttering in surprise. But he returned the embrace, so their lips were sealed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not copy to other sites or translate to other languages.


End file.
